


The Devil’s Kiss

by iuckdingredients



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Banter, Blood and Gore, Blowjobs, Drug lords, Fights, Gunplay, Guns, Money, NSFW, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Sex Toys, Sexual Tension, Tags Subject to Change, Teasing, Violence, Weapons, Woosan, handjobs, just a lot of dicking around, soft moments SOMEHOW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-01-06 02:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iuckdingredients/pseuds/iuckdingredients
Summary: San and Wooyoung were always up each other’s asses. Not literally. Not yet anyway. These two notorious drug lords go head-to-head in a game of violence, sexual tension, and a shitton of weapons. But they’re not fighting alone. San hires informant Mingi who suddenly has less answers and more questions now that Yunho’s in the picture. Jongho and Yeosang play the roles of respective bodyguards with different defense strategies, and Hongjoong and Seonghwa fall in love just like in fairy tales. Except this fairy tale takes place in a pool of blood that just keeps getting bigger and bigger.DISCONTINUED. Please read last chapter which contains author's note.





	1. Can’t Get Past Me

Choi San made for a beautiful woman. That is, disguised as a woman. His already slim, athletic figure made it much too easy to fit into a skin-tight sequined red dress- the staple for any woman on the prowl. Add in a few slight prosthetics to slim the nose and enhance the cheeks, some SFX makeup, and a real human-hair wig… Not to mention that his now-shaven legs looked absolutely sinful when assisted by a set of high heels.

Now in reality, he felt quite nervous; he felt as though he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he knew he had a job to do.

Underneath the dress was a thin waist holster, able to carry a small .45 ACP pistol. San could easily access it by shoving his hand into the dress from the back, which sunk halfway down his bare back.

He had to stay focused. He didn’t want any other men to try and pick him up- that could wait until later. He had only one lucky target:

Jung Wooyoung.

The man of the hour as it would seem, surrounded by other women in front of the roulette table where his winnings kept racking up. Smoke filled the regal two-story room, a sight to see even though it was underground. San scanned the large room from the above balcony: people gambling, smoking, drinking, money travelling from hand to hand. Kingpins met kingpins, making deals that would go unseen but would change the world above as they always do.

San took a drag from the cigarette he was holding between his gloved fingers. Wooyoung always put him on edge. A little nicotine and toxins here and there weren’t the worst things he could put in his body. Especially in this line of business.

Now is as good a time as any, San thought to himself. Make a move now, make a move later- it didn’t quite matter to him.

Making his way down the staircase, San made sure to make his presence known. One hand tracing down the railing, his jewels glistening, his left leg peeking out of the slit in his dress. A flip of the hair sent perfume and pheromones across the room. This wasn’t his first rodeo; he quite enjoyed competing in drag shows when he had the time, and he had perfected the art of his feminine persona. As slimy as it was, nothing else could lure in the men of this crowd more than a dangerous-looking woman.

San slowly made his way to the roulette table, sitting several feet away from Wooyoung on one of the luxurious gold-embellished couches. Cigarette still in hand, San fished for eye contact and took a drag when Wooyoung took the bait.

“Smoking kills,” Wooyoung said, unabashedly taking in San’s full figure.

“I’ll take that risk,’ San replied, his well-trained voice flawlessly a bit higher.

The game of roulette never stopped, the wheel seeming to never stop turning. Wooyoung had incredible luck with this game but San was aggressive, wanting to beat him in all ways. Placing their bets across several rounds, the end payout for San was much higher than Wooyoung’s whose expression slowly sank as the game had progressed. As Wooyoung began to lose, the crowd began to disperse, their source of entertainment now becoming disposable. San now sat with his legs crossed as he casually lounged on the couch in front of Wooyoung. He lit another cigarette.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Tell me who you are. You’re obviously dying to get close to me,” Wooyoung said as he leaned back into the couch.

San took in the image of Wooyoung he saw before him: he was clothed in all black attire with form-fitting tailored pants, expensive dress shoes, a designer turtleneck, a leather belt with a pure silver buckle, and a semi-sheer robe to top it off. Rings adorned his long fingers, many earrings hung from his ears, and his hair was a contrasting silver-blonde. He oozed confidence and wealth.

“I’ll tell you who I am after we get closer. You can still bite if you’d like,” San replied with a small smirk. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

“You know, it gets dangerous down here. Especially for a girl alone at a get-together like this.”

“Just another gamble I’m willing to take.”

Wooyoung chuckled and continued to speak.

“Okay, what’s your M.O? What are you doing down here, hm? Not exactly an establishment that you can just waltz into.”

“Well now, if I tell you a secret like that it’s only fair if you tell me one too,” San said with a purposeful pout.

“Fine. Come here. I’ll tell you something,” Wooyoung said, gesturing him over with his head.

San made his way to the other couch to sit closely next to Wooyoung. Wrapping his arm around San, Wooyoung whispered into his ear.

“You see all these people? They’re all stuck in this pyramid of power. Some are more powerful than others, while some remain at the bottom rung. But me? By the end of this year, I’ll be the one on top. No matter what it takes.”

San turned to look at Wooyoung’s face. God, he wanted to punch him straight in that chiseled face, rearrange his nose a bit. San was the one who was going to be on top. Not Wooyoung. San wanted to laugh in his face. _No you won’t, because you won’t get past me._

“Your turn,” Wooyoung gestured to San.

San turned his body and leaned into Wooyoung, their cheeks brushing as San went to whisper into his ear. He placed a hand on Wooyoung’s far shoulder before speaking.

“I… am incredibly… horny…” San moved his hand from Wooyoung’s shoulder to his crotch before applying a bit of pressure.

“That makes two of us,” Wooyoung said before going to stand. San looked up at him.

“Well? Are you going to come with me or not?” Wooyoung said as he began to walk away from the couch. San stood to follow. No one paid any attention to their ordeal, nor did they care. Halls of rooms were purely dedicated to the underground members having sex. Some rooms were nicer than others, your status in the pyramid of power determining how luxurious your session was going to be. Wooyoung was obviously a higher-up, walking quickly down a hall that was bathed in pink light projected up from modern light fixtures affixed to the walls near the floor. Golden numbers were on every door, with a lock that much like a bathroom stall, read “open” or “occupied.”

Wooyoung stopped at a door at the end of the hall, this door unnumbered and without a labelled lock. He opened the door with a key.

“I’m at the top of this tier,” Wooyoung bragged. Again, San fought the urge to knock him out then and there. San was two spots above Wooyoung on the tier above. _Why are you even bothering?_ San laughed within his head.

Making their way into the room, Wooyoung took off his robe and hung it on the provided coat rack. The room was yet again bathed in a sensual pink, the air filled with a slightly rosy scent. Sex toys were lined up on a floating glass shelf; drawers held lubes, condoms, and strap-on harnesses. A fridge was packed with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and other fun edible options. Wax was provided as were a few knives for more adventurous play. The closet housed a few options for outfits feminine, masculine, and genderfluid. The drawer that pulled out from under the bed was where the BDSM equipment was located. The options were endless.

Wooyoung wasted no time stripping himself down to his cheeky, lacy black boxer-briefs. His physique was one to really appreciate, slim but slightly muscular. He laid on the bed, and gestured San to join him. More specifically, on top of him.

San kicked off his heels and made his way to the bed, his hands sliding across the soft sheets as he positioned himself above Wooyoung. Without hesitation, San leaned forward to aggressively begin kissing Wooyoung, who almost instantaneously obliged. _The things I fucking do,_ San thought to himself. Grinding against him, Wooyoung’s hand slid onto San’s bare thigh which peeked through the slit of the dress. His hands slid higher and higher until he got to the bottom edge of San’s underwear.

In a fluid, swift motion, San had his pistol immediately pointed down at Wooyoung’s face.

“Yeah, not so fucking fast,” San said, his voice now at its natural timbre.

Even at the end of a gun, Wooyoung laughed.

“You know, next time you try to fool me, try to play roulette a little less like Choi San.”

San’s facade on the outside didn’t falter, but on the inside he was kicking himself. He just couldn’t resist a chance to one-up Wooyoung.

“You know what I’m here for,” San continued.

“What? That little fiasco in Japan? He was asking for it!”

“Release my goddamn client or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

“YOUR client? He was mine before he betrayed me and left to whatever establishment you run.”

“It’s not my fault that we produce drugs at a higher quality than your shitshow. Maybe next time you decide to experiment with your product, don’t just give it to people before you test it yourself!”

“You and I both know that personally testing our products is the last thing we want to do. Besides, what do you care about one little client?”

“Don’t try to make a fucking power move is what I’m saying, Jung Wooyoung. Let him go or see half your clientele gone by morning.”

Wooyoung’s phone rang on the bedside table.

“Take it,” San demanded.

Wooyoung turned over to reach for his phone.

“Hello. Yeah, okay. Uh, no I can’t, I’m a little tied up right now but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Yeah. Keep shit under control. Bye.”

“Oh, now who could that have been? I’m not playing games, Wooyoung.”

The laser sights from an armada of unseen snipers peppered Wooyoung’s Japan warehouse, a purposefully visible warning.

“I’ll release your precious little pet if that makes you happy,” Wooyoung spat at San.

“Sounds great. Fuck with me again and see what happens.”

“I mean, we nearly did. Funny how this isn’t the first time,” Wooyoung smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. 

San followed the aim of his pistol to stare Wooyoung in the eyes. Not once did Wooyoung look at the gun. After a small silence, San climbed off the bed.

“Stay there, don’t even try shit.”

“Oh baby, don’t worry about me.”

San was fully fucking annoyed. He crouched down to pull open the drawer residing underneath the bed. Scanning the selection, he decided on the arm cuffs. And the ankle cuffs. And throw in the ball gag… and the blindfold.

Standing back up, San set the pistol down on the dresser adjacent the bed.

“Are we taking our relationship to the next step?” Wooyoung asked teasingly.

San said nothing as he attached the arm cuffs to Wooyoung’s wrists before then attaching them to the built-in bars on the headboard.

Wooyoung watched San’s face with a small smile. Everything was a game to him, and this was no excuse. He was letting San take his turn but much like the game of chess, Wooyoung had already assessed all of the outcomes. He had so many opportunities lying ahead of him to benefit from. This was nothing.

San kept a complacent look on his face as he went to the end of the bed to rig the ankle cuffs.

“Watch out, I’m ticklish,” Wooyoung continued teasing.

Wooyoung now fully spread and attached to the bed, San approached Wooyoung’s face with the ball gag. Wooyoung didn’t seem to have a comment except for opening his mouth to let San do his work. He tightened the strap at the back of Wooyoung’s head before letting his head drop back down to the pillow.

Lastly was the blindfold, the final step in San’s very intimate and personal response to Wooyoung’s power move.

Taking the silk blindfold in his hands, San once again hovered over Wooyoung’s head to begin placing it on him. Wooyoung’s eyes still managed to glitter and smile at San, taunting him. San looked at his face for a second or two, saliva already beginning to leak out from the side of Wooyoung’s gagged mouth. 

Wooyoung winked at San.

San immediately tied the blindfold around Wooyoung’s head, just a little bit tighter than one should before leaving the bedside. 

Taking one last look in the room’s full-length mirror, San adjusted his disguise so he could painlessly slip out of this little shindig. Heels back on and weapon once again concealed, San opened the door and turned back to Wooyoung’s sprawled out, nearly-nude body.

“Until next time, Wooyoung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this exhausted and on my period at 4 am lol i have PLANS for this one so stay tuned xx


	2. Ring Ring

San knew that Wooyoung was going to counter his move somehow, someway. He was honestly anticipating it. Maybe even a little excited. But until it happened, San’s life was back to normal. As normal as the leader of a huge underground drug ring’s life can be. 

San sat in his lavish office, behind his huge, dark mahogany desk. His office was a clash of themes that really didn’t go well together: violence and minimalism. The walls of the room were black, adorned with small matching paintings, each a deep shade of off-putting red. Behind him were giant glass shelves, each shelf sporting a different knick-knack. A knife collection- gift from a regular client. An antique pistol, a small succulent, a glass jar of bullet casings, all with a significant and most likely bloody meaning. The room somehow felt too dirty and too clean at the same time.

San lazily scrolled through the records of this past month: shipments incoming and outgoing, quantities, profit, expenses. Numbers flew across the screen, but he wasn’t really registering it. How could he when Choi fucking Jongho wouldn’t fucking shut the fuck up?

“What made you think that going to that club alone to confront the ONE man who probably wants you dead more than anyone else, how did you think that was a good idea? One client versus your fucking life! If you go down, we all go down. AND not to mention, calling to move men to the Japan branch just to make a petty POWER MOVE is a waste of time, resources, and money.” Jongho cleared his throat. “If I may say so.”

San sighed and closed all his tabs, revealing a default nature wallpaper of a raindrop on a leaf.

San trusted Jongho, both as an advisor and a bodyguard. At the start, he was hired just as a bodyguard. Silent but brutal. But San would always want a second opinion on things, especially when he was alone and drunk. Jongho happened to always be in the crossfire at those times. Hell, Jongho spent so much time around San that he pretty much knew everything about him. And he wasn’t just a voiceless machine- he was actually incredibly intelligent. But to him, beating people with his fists was more enjoyable than beating them with his mind. A bit more gratifying, too.

San would kindly ask for his opinion, but at some point Jongho just began to automatically give them whenever San was making decisions or did something incredibly stupid. San didn’t really mind all that much. Except when he did mind because it was simply fucking annoying to hear his grating voice continuously berate him like a disappointed father. 

San straightened himself in his chair before responding in a low voice.

“Jongho. You know I value your opinion greatly, but sometimes I just need you to-”

San was cut short by his phone vibrating loudly on his desktop. The caller ID read, “Maybe: Wooyoung.” San rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

“A little too early in the day for a booty call, sweetheart,” San monotonously answered the call.

Wooyoung laughed, probably throwing his head back since it sounded close, then distant, and then close again. 

“Oh no no no, I was just calling you to give you the latest update! So I escaped your sexy little trap as you can probably tell. I just wanted to let you know that I’m actually INTO that sort of thing and if you had wanted me that badly, you should have just-” 

San hung up.

And then blocked that number.

Even though Wooyoung would call again at a different number just to piss him off.

San tossed his phone onto his desk, the loud thunk resonating in the large room. Jongho looked at San warily.

“You know, I’m not so sure this game that you guys are playing is really benefiting anyone…”

San stood up, his chair making another loud sound as it scraped against the floor.

“It’s not a fucking GAME, Jongho. Everything he does, I have to see it. Every time that piece of shit breathes, I want to know about it. When he moves, where he goes, I have to know. I will do whatever it TAKES to be on top. I just have to be ready when the opportunity arises for me to steal everything from him.”

San stepped closer to Jongho with every sentence that he spat out, his frustration being released on Jongho for the millionth time. Jongho stood still as he looked San straight in the eyes, not even flinching when San’s saliva found its way onto his cheek. Licking his lips, San took a few steps back before speaking again.

“I need an informant. Someone on the outside. Someone who sees more than I do.”

San closed his eyes and thought for a moment, thumbing through the pages in his mind of the connections he had.

A faithful client of his was a notorious hitman, one who was hired for assassinating those who held high positions of power. He was simply paid to shoot and kill; anything else was above his pay grade. An informant would observe, infiltrate, gather intel- blending into crowds much easier than a burly hitman would. So whenever he needed information on his target, where and when they would be and when it was the optimum time to kill- he always relied on one man. And in exchange for a sizable amount of ecstasy to drown out his nightmares, he gifted San one of his most prized resources.

Quickly opening his bottom desk drawer, San dug through mountains of papers, folders, USBs, pens, pencils, and the occasional gum wrapper before finding the small piece of paper he was given on which was a number and a name:

Song Mingi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gaHH shorter chapter i know bUT i'm a sucker for cliffhangers,, i am so excited for these upcoming characters i hope yall are too. tags also changed as i established a few more planned relationships ;) see u in the next chapter xx


	3. Unanticipated

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. A low, intimidating voice immediately spoke.

“You know who I am and you know what I do. Pick a public place and I can meet you within the next twenty-four hours.”

San quickly racked his brain for all the popular places around town and decided on one of many nasty fast food restaurants. Seemed public enough.

“How soon can you meet?” San asked. He wanted this taken care of and put into action as soon as possible.

San was met with silence until the voice spoke once again.

“I can be there at 7 P.M. this evening.” 

Click.

San pulled the phone from his face to find the call was already over. 

“Well, damn. Didn’t even say goodbye…” San mumbled to himself.

Jongho looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“It looks like we’ll be making a new friend in a few hours,” San smiled and stood.

“Ah, yes, you always seem to choose the best company, especially since you seem to spend the most time around your enemies,” Jongho passively responded.

“...and you,” San retorted, looking his bodyguard up and down. Jongho rolled his eyes.

 

6:52 P.M. and San was sitting in the middle of a greasy fast food restaurant surrounded by loud children, exasperated parents, and straight up diabetes. 

But no Song Mingi. Maybe he wasn’t the kind of guy to show up early to things. Maybe he was out slitting someone’s throat before he stopped by to see San only to just leave again to his next target. San sat contemplating the possibilities, only looking up when he heard the door open and the ring of a bell as a man entered the restaurant.

He looked… normal. Super casual. A graphic t-shirt and jeans, looking exactly like he fit in. San suddenly felt a little overdressed but shook off his worries as the man walked further into the restaurant… to order… and sit down… somewhere else.

Slightly exasperated, San began to doodle on a stray coloring page that came with kids’ meals. His wandering mind was once again interrupted, this time by a figure coming to sit down across from him. 

Mingi was dressed a little less casually than the last customer that waltzed in, wearing a black sweater and slacks. He stared at San in silence before choosing to break the silence because obviously San wasn’t going to.

“Well?”

San’s mind clicked into gear as he began to think about his end goal once again.

“Jung Wooyoung. Know him?”

Mingi chuckled. 

“Yes… what about him?” Mingi said, his tone raising as a small grin spread across his face.

“I want to know what his next move is. I want him taken out, but only when the time is right. I can pay you monetarily or materially. Any drug you request, I can get it. Otherwise, you will receive a percentage of monthly sales until Wooyoung is dead. Sound like a plan?”

Mingi’s grin grew ever so slightly. 

“Straightforward man. I respect that. Sure, I can help you play this little game. In all honesty, it would be a pleasure to take part in such a powerful feud. I’ll contact you once I have relevant intel.”

And with that, Mingi stood to leave. Out as quickly as he came in, like a fleeting shadow. No one would ever suspect the amount of blood that was spilled at the hands of the man that held the door open for a family. None could fathom the many different ways he knew how to find, torture, and even kill a man as he casually walked to his car to drive away.

San returned to his own car where Jongho sat in the driver’s seat with a clear view of where San was previously seated inside the restaurant. 

“How was school, honey?” Jongho teased.

“Very funny. Let’s head back. We’ll wait until he gets back to us.”

 

Besides running a huge drug business, San had some… interesting ways to spend his time. Most of them dangerous and for lack of a better word, stupid. San had the mindset that he was immune to the woes of human life. Sadness? Wiped out with drugs or drinks. Death? How could San die? Impossible. He was immortal. Godlike. Almost all of the underground’s power within his reach… then and ONLY then would he be completely untouchable. Until then, he liked to toy with fate.

Jongho really didn’t like the idea at first. He didn’t want to be blamed if things went wrong, he’d be dead before he could even take another breath. But San insisted. San insisted it was “training.” Jongho failed to see how this benefitted either of them but nonetheless, San was persistent and here they were for the hundredth time, Jongho pointing a gun at San from about 75 feet away. Last week was knife throwing, a little less challenging. But San felt good today, he wanted to go all out.

“C’mon, don’t be shy. You know I have great reflexes,” San yelled from a distance.

San purposefully chose to dance with death so he would be able to escape it when the time came. Jongho had shot him in the shoulder once, a “lapse in judgement,” San called it. They used rubber bullets after that. But it didn’t stop San from making Jongho pit him face-to-face with a number of life-or-death simulations.

San reminisced on one of his favorite ones where he was strapped to a table. His wrists were rubbed raw and bloody as he pulled them out of the cuffs that were installed to hold him down. Jongho stood off to the side unmoving unless San uttered the safe word. Otherwise, “don’t help me,” he demanded. Escaping that table was a peak for San, an accomplishment that signified him moving to the next level. He could do anything, escape anything, and defeat Wooyoung. Wooyoung couldn’t play any more games with him. This was serious business now.

“Just fucking fire,” San sighed.

Jongho immediately began firing round after round, much less worried about the rubber bullets harming San. San watched his hand with sharp eyes, using maneuvers to make it difficult for Jongho to hit him. San had gotten faster: his reflexes, his speed, his mind. He knew every step he would take to get where he needed to be- something he had struggled for all his life. His father never acknowledged his accomplishments, being too busy rolling in money to give a fuck about his illegitimate son. Perhaps he didn’t pay attention to San, but San paid plenty of attention to him.

He strived to never become like his father, in more ways than one. Not only was he a terrible parent, but he was terrible at running his business. He made too many mistakes. It was like he had never learned the game of chess: never thinking beyond his own moves. He was a full-on horny idiot who didn’t know how to think with his head instead of his sad penis.

And San would never, EVER be that now-dead piece of shit. Shot by someone of no importance, even his death was an unnotable, stupid mistake.

San didn’t make mistakes.

San knew the enemy, thought long and hard about what he would do, assess his options, and almost ALWAYS choose what would benefit him the most. His skill set was extremely impressive, he was practically flying up the rungs of the underground. Until Wooyoung. A heady, young spitfire who wanted women, weapons, and a shitton of attention. San didn’t buy it. _All bark, no bite._

At first, San decided to just wipe him out like a little bug on a windshield. He’d just slink into his room and _oops! My hand slipped and I shot him!_ And then regain his rightful place. 3 A.M. on that fateful, fateful night, and San quietly walked to Wooyoung’s room for the night. San knew he’d be here tonight. This was the right time to strike.

San went to pick the lock, but was surprised to see the doorknob turn with ease. _Unlocked? Careless._ He tiptoed into the room to find it was empty. Okay, this wasn’t a variable that San had completely considered. He went into his room, San watched him! _Shit._ The sound of water running from the bathroom made San whip his head towards the door from which the sound was coming. 

So San didn’t make mistakes. But if he did, the LAST thing he would do is abandon ship. There was always a way.

San hid behind a corner that was out of sight from the bathroom door and waited until the doorknob turned and the exhaust fan was silenced. He steadied his breath, ready to act with precision at any second. Feet padded towards where San was hiding.

Around the corner it came, Wooyoung’s arm with a loaded glock in hand. The rest of Wooyoung followed. 

“Can I… help you?” Wooyoung looked at San inquisitively. He didn’t even look fazed. San swallowed. Wooyoung was only covered by a towel around his waist, his hair still wet and eyes focused on San. His physique was muscular but slim, chest slightly gleaming from the room’s soft light. Okay, definitely NOT a variable that San accounted for.

“Ohhh… like what you see, huh? If you wanted to fuck me you could’ve just asked. You didn’t have to threaten me,” Wooyoung said with a killer smile. San raised his gun at Wooyoung.

“Just assessing my target,” he rebuked in an unamused voice.

“Target?” Wooyoung let out a breathy chuckle. “Mmm’kay, what do you really want from me? I’ve never seen you in my goddamned life.”

San pulled himself from the wall to straighten himself out and stand a little taller. Wooyoung followed his movements with his gun. San followed his.

“You don’t own shit around here, okay? I don’t know what significance you think you hold, but little pussies like you don’t survive in this world. You’ll be dead soon if you don’t start watching your back. You’ve never seen me before? That’s because I’m so far above you, you should consider it a blessing that I’m in front of you now. Stay in the trenches where you belong.”

Wooyoung looked taken a little aback. He glanced at the pistol in San’s hand. Along the side was an engraved “ _Choi_.”

“Holy shit! YOU? Choi San, as I live and breathe. Holy fuck, I’ve only heard stories about you, and here you are in my room threatening ME! You must be so worried,” Wooyoung said between stifled laughter. San’s expression only became that much more unamused. 

To San’s surprise, Wooyoung lowered his weapon. 

“Go on. I’ll let you leave.”

San went to speak before Wooyoung continued.

“You’re threatened by me… how much would it hurt your pride to kill me so easily? If I’m so insignificant, why waste so much time on me? You came all the way here to take me out, only to let me know how far beneath you I am. Honey, I think we’re a little more equal than you think if you came to me.” 

San’s jaw tightened. He might’ve made a mistake. As much as it pained him, he lowered his gun. He swallowed once more before finally speaking again.

“I suppose I’ll be seeing you again then.”

And with that, he turned to leave, embarrassed, loathing himself, and slightly turned on.

 

Pain shot through San’s shoulder.

“Oh, shit! Where’s your head at, San?” Jongho yelled.

San gripped his shoulder and winced. Rubber bullets may not kill him, but damn did they hurt. He began to walk back towards Jongho who was looking at San, slightly confused.

San breathlessly responded to Jongho’s perplexed expression.

“That’s enough for today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE i was having writer’s block but i wrote almost all of this in one inspired sitting. i hope you enjoy, big things still yet to come xx


	4. Love Note

San’s phone buzzed around 6 P.M. a few days later, the call that he was patiently waiting to receive. Mingi had called just to give San a heads-up that he was coming to his main office. San didn’t think it was worth much to question how he knew where it was located.

Mingi drove around to the loading dock area where trucks made their way in and out with supplies and products. San and Jongho made their way down there as well, sliding open one of the large metal dock doors with a loud metallic crash as it hit the top of the opening. 

San raised an eyebrow at Mingi’s choice of vehicle.

“You drive a Kia Soul.” San said it less like a question and more like an unimpressed statement of the obvious.

“Yes I drive a Kia Soul. A modified Kia Soul. A Kia Soul with surround sound. A Kia Soul with bulletproof glass. What’d you expect? A Tesla?” Mingi replied in a humored tone.

Jongho looked at the ground, stifling a chuckle. San eyed him and sighed.

“Come inside. I’m sure you have news for me?”

They made their way through the warehouse- an impeccable place through which San made millions by distributing wide ranges of drug paraphernalia: legal, illegal, and straight up suicidal. Set in an undisclosed location surrounded by shrubbery, the “factory” as it might be called was detached from the rest of the world, but somehow still in plain sight. It meshed with the rest of the nearby city, simply looking like one of those huge industrial warehouses that no one questions because the work done inside is probably boring. 

The outside was nothing like the inside, as to be expected from a place which San held power over. Two stories above ground and three below, the establishment had roots that dated back many, many years. San finally gained the power which he knew he deserved and refined the “dirty, unprofessional” environment. He spent more time here than at his own house so it was no surprise that his living quarters were neglected whilst the warehouse was lavishly decorated (but still functional!).

Walking down several corridors, San led them to his office and sat down in one of the other chairs in the room, not wanting to be behind a desk whilst Mingi spoke. Jongho stood at the door as per usual and Mingi took a seat across from San. A decanter of water sat on the glass table near them along with two glasses into which San poured them each a drink. Neither of them proceeded to even touch them.

Mingi immediately got to business.

“You know, I was a little unimpressed by Wooyoung’s efforts. I was expecting something a little more… exciting, but- this is just lackluster.”

San had a deadpan expression on his face as he waited for Mingi to continue.

“He’s just gonna fuck with your shipments. Change some delivery locations, replace some orders with his. Pretty harmless if you ask me, won’t even make a visible dent in the amount of your sales. You’ll just have to explain the delays and mix-ups to your clients. But, no blood is being spilled and you’re not even going to see Wooyoung during any of this.”

Mingi looked a little disappointed. He had expected a little more bloodshed, a little more violence, someone DYING maybe? Not this petty bickering.

San wasn’t impressed either. _That was it? Something not even worth countering?_

San sighed. “Okay. Well, thank you for the information regardless of how fucking worthless it was to me.”

“Yeah. Of course. Sorry I couldn’t come with more exhilarating news, you can imagine how disappointed I was when I realized that that was all there was to his plan.”

“I’ll still pay you the amount we agreed on. Continue to keep an eye out.”

“Of course.”

 _So unlike him to be so boring,_ San thought to himself. He suspected that Wooyoung had something else up his sleeve but he didn’t know what exactly. Or perhaps maybe Wooyoung really was losing his touch...

 

A couple weeks passed with nothing out of the ordinary to note, a very stifling situation for San. He sat on edge nearly every second of every day waiting anxiously for the move Wooyoung would make just so San could immediately counter it and wipe that ever-present smirk off of his face.

From where San sat, everything seemed to carry on as per usual. On-site it was probably a shitshow, but San wouldn’t care unless someone called him and alerted it as a real problem. _So what, a mysterious delivery shows up at the site? Boohoo. Let me know if I’ve actually lost significant revenue._ San scoffed aloud.

“Something on your mind?” Jongho asked.

“There’s always something on my mind, Jongho,” San replied without looking up. Silence filled the stuffy room again.

Until the door flew open and the doorknob loudly hit the wall with such force that it no doubt left a dent. One of San’s communicants rushed in from behind it, a face of sheer panic invading his expression. He caught his breath for a moment and swallowed before speaking.

“Sir… sir, a number of our men have been killed at the subsidiary base across town. They advise that you come right away.”

San’s eyes widened. _The move._ He shot up from his chair, sprinting out of the room, Jongho right on his heels. As quickly as they could, they got inside the car, Jongho turning the key in the ignition and immediately gunning it.

The subsidiary base came to be through a mutual alliance with another dominator of the drug world. San’s now-ally had the land and San had the special drug the other couldn’t produce alone. Shared land, shared resources, shared profit.

This was one of the only times that San went through with an alliance. People were always disappointing, therefore San much preferred to make as little personal connections as possible. _Better to be safe than sorry_ was San’s ironic mindset. If a relationship went sour, it’d just be one more chore. One more person to shoot in the head. So San decided not to build any relationships to begin with. He knew himself and his business better than anyone else, so what would be the point?

Jongho was probably the closest thing he had to a friend, always by San’s side through the good and the bad. He may have been paid to do so, but that didn’t detract from the significance of what they’d experienced together.

And this was another one of those times as Jongho sped to the smaller base, San staring out the windshield with a cold, concentrated face. His expression remained unfaltered as Jongho pulled into the lot, the aftermath of the event already visible in the bright sunlight of the day. San and Jongho slammed their car doors shut as they began to process the sight in front of them.

Bodies decorated the ground, corpses lying in huge pools of their own blood. The stench in the air was already building, the sun expediting the nasty process. The air even tasted… metallic.

The ground was stained with dark blood, various trails and footprints smearing the blood around like paint on a concrete canvas. Two surviving employees emerged from the building, covered in dirt from hiding in filthy, unseen corners in and outside of the warehouse. 

San spoke in a firm, even tone.

“Tell me what happened.”

One of the men spoke after a few moments of contemplative silence.

“We were operating normally and one of the shipping crates that was due to arrive today came in. But it wasn’t our crate. It looked inconspicuous, nothing that would ever indicate that something wasn’t right. The crate doors were opened and waiting inside was a full-on fucking ambush. They opened fire only after giving us time to realize we were going to fucking die.” 

The man winced and held his arm. He’d been shot. His coworker was also grazed on his leg, explaining the limp that he possessed whilst approaching San and Jongho. San was growing in anger. _Fucked with the shipments, alright._ The man continued to speak.

“That… wasn’t all.” He began to walk to the shipping crate in question. San and Jongho followed in slight confusion. _What else was there to be done beyond this?_

Still mounted on the delivery truck, the crate doors were wide open. As they approached, they could now see a thick, viscous stream of blood gushing out onto the ground. The morbid stream was just a miniscule precursor to the sight of what was inside. 

The rest of the crew. 

In pieces. 

Mangled and mutilated like a completed puzzle being torn apart. Except this was like twenty puzzles being torn apart and put into the same box. A bloody, disgusting, morbid box filled with separated limbs, skin, and organs.

San’s own blood boiled. Jongho scrunched his nose as he stood further off to the side. The two survivors kept their distance. They’d already seen this once. No need to see it again.

San balled his hand into a fist at his side. The anger and disgust and FURY at the scene was only escalated by what may have been the most unsettling thing of them all.

On the far wall of the crate across from the doors was a message:

“YOUR TURN ♡”

The words were written in crimson red, looking to be haphazardly painted on the wall with someone’s hands. 

Wooyoung’s hands. 

San’s heart pounded in his ears. His breath quickened. His whole body burned. 

This.

Motherfucker.

Without a word, San stormed back to the car, stopping to scrape his feet along the ground to clean off the blood that stuck to his shoes. Jongho raced after him, getting into the driver’s seat right after San shut his own door. Vigorously reaching into his pocket, San pulled out his phone. As the line rang, he turned to Jongho. 

“We’re getting Mingi. We-”

The line was answered by that familiar and intimidating voice. San spoke quickly.

“Get to the warehouse. Now. We have a fucking… situation! That bastard and his men slaughtered the near entirety of the men at my subsidiary base. Yeah, we’re leaving there right now.” San glanced at Jongho who took the hint and immediately turned the car on to speed away again. San hung up, neither him nor Mingi wasting time on goodbyes.

Jongho turned his head to look at San who was once again staring through the windshield. San answered the silent question that he knew Jongho was asking.

“We need all hands on deck. If he’s doing this to other shipments, then we ALL need to be prepared.”

San paused for a moment before speaking a shade quieter.

“It’s time to go visit Yunho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, wrote this in one SPLURGE and i was actually at work lol. changed the warnings bc this was graphic, and added some new tags bc i have Things Planned !! love you all x


	5. Sights Set on You

Upon meeting at the warehouse, San, Jongho, and Mingi piled into the same car. Mingi was insistent that they take his car but San couldn’t trust his unknown driving skills and he really didn’t want Yunho to see him stepping out of a Kia Soul. He’d never hear the end of it. Plus, Jongho didn’t require GPS to know where to go. And even then, GPS wouldn’t really do a good job at getting them there regardless since it was so well-hidden.

The drive was mostly occupied by silence, save for the slight tapping of San’s fingertips on his phone, contacting different employees and branches telling them to buckle down and prepare for the worst. The quiet hum of the engine was the only other audible sound that filled the empty space. Mingi stared out the window, definitely NOT memorizing the turns they were taking.

Finally pulling up to what looked like an abandoned house, Jongho and San stepped out of the car, familiar with the building and what lie inside. Mingi looked on in appreciative curiosity; it wasn’t everyday that he actually found himself in an unfamiliar place. 

Rounding the building, San and Jongho skipped what they knew to be a facade, making their way to the true entrance at the back. Mingi followed, the trio still silent as they walked. San and Jongho stopped in front of the metal door that was slightly covered with surrounding shrubbery, standing in continued silence. Mingi spoke after a few awkward seconds.

“Umm… aren’t you going to knock…?” 

The other two simply glanced at him with unperturbed expressions, granting Mingi no reply and turning back to face the door.

A few moments later, the sound of the handle being turned followed by the loud creak of the door opening broke the silence. Behind the door stood Jeong Yunho.

Now, to say that Mingi was a weak man at heart was not an accurate statement, but in certain contexts, such a statement could not BE more accurate. As the door creaked open and this puppy-eyed angelic figure stood in front of him, Mingi felt as though he might be able to regain some sort of innocence and bliss in his life- minus the killing and the torturing and…

“Hey, come on in,” the angel spoke. San and Jongho made their way inside, all too familiar with Yunho’s cozy establishment. However, Mingi was still entirely in the dark as to the business Yunho ran, but as they made their way inside, he was able to quickly infer the line of business Yunho partook in.

Almost like some sort of strange museum, weaponry of a wide variety formed a makeshift maze in what was Yunho’s private selection. Rifles, shotguns, pistols, tasers, knives, maces, nunchucks, even swords formed the hedges of the maze. The posse was led by Yunho who took them into a side room that could only be none other than his office. The walls were adorned with a selection of swords that were on display, along with one golden pistol. These were no doubt Yunho’s favorites. Mingi wondered what the meaning behind them could be. He imagined being able to reach the point where Yunho would tell him such things, where Mingi could hold him in his lap and stroke his hair whilst Yunho told him every intimate thing that he could share.

Mingi was surprised at himself- he had never actually wanted to KNOW someone so much before. And he couldn’t even really pinpoint why. Maybe it was how Yunho’s face- his large cheeks and sweet smile- they contrasted so wildly with the cold, metallic killing machines that he surrounded himself with. And even more so, Mingi was surprised at how quickly and deeply he was daydreaming about someone he had just met. Or- not really… Mingi realized he hadn't introduced himself properly. Maybe it was too awkward now to just randomly explain who he was. What did it really matter anyway? If he was here with San, then it was obvious where his allegiance lied. 

They sat down in the various chairs within Yunho’s office, San getting right to business. He explained the situation in its summarized entirety: the feud, the killings… the weapons he needed. As San spoke, Yunho's gaze began to drift, having heard an unfathomable amount of stories such as his. Something happened, someone died, now they want a shitton of guns and revenge. Yunho didn't care much for gang politics; he remained unbiased and uncaring because no matter who was fighting who, they all came to Yunho for the tools to do so. 

San was lost in his own rant, watching his own hand smack the table for emphasis, Jongho purposefully yawning behind him. Yunho fought the urge to laugh. He looked away from San, his eyes falling onto Mingi who was already gazing right back at him. Yunho became very aware of the fact that he didn't know this man. This… striking, attractive man whose presence that now that Yunho had noticed it, he couldn’t let it go. 

Mingi chose to maintain his gaze. He had been caught, but he didn’t want to show weakness- he wanted to maintain dominance. So he stubbornly stared right back at the celestial boy. But he lost the gaze as Yunho took in Mingi’s entirety: his outfit, his posture, his presence that screamed “look at me, ravish me, make me yours.” Mingi wanted to believe he was checking him out, but his better judgement and common sense told him he was simply analyzing a new face: one that could prove to be an ally or an enemy. Again, Yunho didn’t know him. He would probably never know him. _Why would I ever be so lucky?_ Mingi thought to himself.

However, Mingi took his counterpart’s wandering gaze as an opportunity to return the favor. When Yunho met his eyes again, Mingi took his turn breaking away from the staring game to take in Yunho’s entirety: a soft face, begging to be caressed by someone who knew how to love him and love him well. His large stature was made pointedly obvious with the way his feet were able to so easily touch the floor, even when he leaned back in his seat. Well, Mingi could do the same. _Was this a challenge?_

As Yunho relaxed in his chair, redirecting his attention back to San, Mingi took the directive to take his ankle off of his other knee and place both feet firmly on the ground. At the movement, Yunho’s gaze wandered back into his peripherals, where he was now acutely aware of the message this new character may have been trying to send. 

“Well, San I think I know exactly what it is that you need!” Yunho cut San’s monologue short (thank God), abruptly standing and making his way back out onto the show floor. Jongho followed, tapping San’s back to take him out of his frozen, mid-sentence state. Mingi stayed behind for a moment, taking in the office one more time. Did he come off too strong? What if Yunho got the wrong idea? _Why does this even matter to me right now?_ Mingi had been thrown for an absolute tailspin.

Hearing Yunho begin to explain the necessary weapons he believed San should equip his team with, Mingi stood up and made his way back out onto the floor. Yunho was explaining the recoil on a particular pistol as Mingi rejoined the group. Yunho looked up briefly but without any hesitation in his words, continuing to speak fluently as he once again locked eyes with Mingi. Their little staring game continued all throughout the session wherein Yunho explained the advantages of particular guns and what would be the most cost-effective for what San required. He answered any questions they had, and even obliged to Jongho’s curiosity on throwing knives. Mingi probably hadn’t listened more intently to anything or anyone in his entire life. 

With the list of weapons now decided, they began taking them out case by case and loading them into the trunk of San’s vehicle.

“Nice mom van,” Mingi poked at San.

“It’s a luxury SUV, excuse you. Just as if not _safer_ than your precious Kia Soul. I’d like to see you fit this amount of weapons in your trunk.”

“Jesus, next thing you know you’re storing your guns in space bags…” Mingi remarked to himself, but Yunho quietly snickered. Mingi looked over at him, Yunho’s mouth twitching as he tried to contain his giggles. They continued carefully loading the car until Mingi went back inside to grab the last case. As he stooped down to pick up what could have been any kind of weapon, he paused at the now-obvious presence that accompanied him. Slowly releasing his hold on the handle of the case, Mingi stood up to look Yunho directly in the eyes.

Unbeknownst to the both of them, they took each other by surprise by being similar in stature and height, a rarity that they could lock eyes with someone without having to look down. Mingi held his cool expression a little better than Yunho could, Yunho’s face faltering a bit at the sight of Mingi’s face so up close and personal. His face didn’t falter in a necessarily bad way, it’s just that the way the sparkle in his eyes intensified in that moment may have been a total giveaway.

Mingi wanted so badly to believe that he saw that sparkle, that he wasn’t just getting his hopes up. The glistening exchange however, only lasted what could have been the blink of an eye and almost immediately Yunho broke the silence.

“I’m Yunho. Jeong… Yunho.” He extended his hand out to Mingi, suddenly feeling a little foolish. _This was how people introduced themselves, right?_ Mingi huffed a laugh through his nose as he smiled a bit, reflexively removing the leather glove off of his right hand and extending it to meet Yunho’s. Only then had Yunho realized he was even wearing gloves in the first place, especially with how warm Mingi’s hands were in contrast to his own.

“Mingi. Song… Mingi,” he replied, mimicking Yunho’s chosen way of introducing himself. Yunho let out his own huffy laugh as his eyes found the ground and returned back to Mingi’s face. 

Oops.

They were still shaking hands. Shaking? They weren’t even moving. _Holding_ hands.

Mingi cleared his throat, also wishing he could somehow clear the air. Call it a mutual move that they both let go of each other’s hand simultaneously. Mingi slid the glove back on his hand before breaking the silence.

“You have a very impressive collection, Yunho,” Mingi said, gazing across the expansive warehouse behind Yunho. 

“Thank you, it’s just a hobby of mine I suppose,” Yunho said with a chuckle. Mingi was taken a bit by surprise. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto one leg.

“Just a hobby? Collecting stamps is a hobby. Collecting lethal weapons, including majorly modified absolute killing machines… that’s another story,” Mingi said, taking a step closer toward Yunho who replied, unmoving.

“Well, when you put it like _that_ , it sounds much more violent than it needs to,” Yunho retorted, taking a step closer to Mingi who took his turn remaining steadfast.

 _“Really?”_ Mingi said in a rising tone, purposefully condescending for emphasis. Yunho’s eyebrow quirked as Mingi continued speaking.

“Have you ever actually killed a man, Yunho? You’re incredibly knowledgeable on all things weaponry, I would expect your kill list to be rolling off the table, onto the floor, and out the door…”

Yunho cleared his throat before replying.

“No. I haven’t killed anyone. I just stay here with my inventory and I never use it for… personal gain. I give everyone else the means to kill, but I haven’t done so myself. Haven’t gotten anywhere close to that. It feels slightly hypocritical of me to know so much about how to use a weapon, but to have never had to _use_ a weapon.” 

Mingi’s expression softened, slightly taken aback by Yunho’s unwavering honesty. Yunho didn’t sound disappointed or anything, he simply sounded resolute- acceptant of his circumstances. Mingi wasn’t having it. Why settle?

“Would you like to learn how?” Mingi took one more step, blatantly crossing over the invisible personal boundary line.

“Learn how…?”

“Well, first… you get really close to them, make them think that you have good intentions, maybe even become their friend. Or more.” 

No way in hell was this actually how Mingi would go about murdering someone, but Yunho didn’t know that, and no way IN HELL would Mingi ever admit that he was showboating just to flirt. Regardless, Mingi was incredibly close to Yunho, his breath now able to hit Yunho’s face seeing as he was mere inches away. Yunho didn’t mind. Although, he had to admit he couldn’t distinguish where exactly his horniness crossed over into slight fear. Mingi continued his spooky talking.

“You wait until they least expect it, and you creep near them, almost like a spider…” Mingi took the ridiculous initiative to start walking his fingers up Yunho’s arm. 

Yunho didn’t mind.

“You creep close… and then BANG!” Mingi suddenly yelled, giving Yunho a slight push, garnering a flinch from him. Mingi was about to laugh when Yunho spoke first.

“So you bang them… is what I’m gathering.”

Yunho had the biggest motherfucking smirk on his face, he knew, he KNEW that he had just completely tripped Mingi up, and damn was he proud of it. Mingi’s laugh stopped short and came out as a cough. Yunho continued speaking, milking this moment for what it was worth.

“I mean, gunplay is pretty kinky, but I consider myself to be open-minded.”

Suddenly, the innocence Mingi once saw in the face of this angelic boy completely diminished to be replaced by a boner. An emotional boner. A confused boner. A boner that was questioning how the fuck this cute little saint could manage to catch him so off guard. But he wasn’t defeated so easily.

“You do? Well, if that’s what you’re into then maybe I should… shoot my shot.”

San interrupted, making his presence known by obnoxiously stomping on the warehouse floor.

“Um, _hello????????????_ ”

San gestured wildly to the door before coming in to grab the last case with a huff and leaving once more. Mingi watched him walk away before turning around, now chest to chest with Yunho who took it upon himself to gaze directly into Mingi’s eyes.

“Leaving so soon, huh. Maybe… come back and teach me something else?”

Mingi’s eyes filled with fire, one that hadn’t burned since God knows when. His mouth curled into a smile before he pulled Yunho by his waist to firmly hold his body against his own.

“I plan to,” he said lowly before letting loose his grip, but Yunho still remained ever so close.

“I’ll be waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exams and sickness attacked me but i am alive and this fic lives on !! huge shoutout to my headass friends who supply me with the best banter for dialogue. ALSO eheUurh rusEhhdusuhheheuu the yungi begins... damn they’re flirty,, maybe it’s a tall boy thing. thanks for reading ;)


	6. Unloading

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, Jongho. Yes, this is necessary. Nothing has ever been more necessary in the history of necessary than THIS being this necessary.”

San sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, looking out at the sea of weapons. All of the weapons. In his office. For some reason. Jongho would ask for a raise, but his bank account probably had more digits in it than the national debt. Jongho just settled for a purposefully audible, exasperated sigh.

“There’s a number of reasons why this is absolutely necessary. First of all, being in a room full of nothing but lethal toys kinda does something to your brain. Makes you think a little… bloodier. Nastier. They’re not merely just tools to kill, but they are also tools to expedite the process in which I need to think about how I am going to kill he who shall not be named-”

“Wooyo-”

“HE WHO SHALL not be named. And when I think about killing him, I can’t help but think about how important it is that I choose the right weapon with which to do so.”

San had begun to carefully walk around the expansive office, careful not to trip on any triggers. He continued monologuing, Jongho very much feeling that the sound of his voice resembled glass being pulverized in a blender. 

“How would I want him to go? Would I want to prolong his death? Oh, well duh. Yes, of course. Can’t have him die before he even feels the sensation of death creeping under his disgusting skin. I could use a knife and drive it straight into his stomach and carve out my name in his flesh, making him die along with any chances he had of overtaking me. Or I could attach him to the wall and play a game of darts. Would you like to play darts, Jongho?”

“No, sir.”

“Your loss.” San returned to his cushy chair, flopping down to sit with a sigh. 

“I just really, really need to know how to fuck with him and fuck with him good. I have to one-up his little... art project.” 

“Sir, do you think it’s really the best idea to fight fire with fire? He’ll just retaliate and this will continue until you two are the last ones standing. And then there will be the last man standing with nothing to show for it.”

San stared at a particular spot on his desk before his head shot up to look at Jongho with a gleam in his eyes.

“Choi Jongho, the MAN you are today. Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Um… no. Why…?”

“It’s a perfect idea. Shit, I have to call Yunho. And Mingi. You know what, you call Mingi, tell him to get his ass back up here.” San was zooming around the room, closing weapon cases and moving them off to the side. 

“Mingi is currently undercover at Wooyoung’s base. Where you requested him to be… can I ask what the fuck you’re on about?” Jongho was tired.

“Fire! FIRE, numb nuts. He wants to kill my men? Fine. I’ll light both his men and his products up in hellfire. I’m sure Yunho has enough lighter fluid and flamethrowers to spare… and Mingi knows the layout of that base. I’m gonna bring him to his knees, Jongho.”

Visions of flames burned behind San’s eyes, envisioning the glorious light that would come from burning Wooyoung’s home base down to the ground. Everyone unlucky enough to be inside, burnt to a crisp, and thousands of dollars worth in surplus now nothing but ashes. He didn’t care if he didn’t kill as many men as Wooyoung did. Nor did he have to get his hands as dirty as Wooyoung (quite literally) did. This was about sending a loud and clear message that this was San’s territory, and if anyone should cross the line that he toed, then they should expect nothing less than to burst into skin-melting flames.

Jongho was now one hundred percent certain that San had fully crossed over into the land of impulsivity and rage. There was no stopping him now. He finally gave San his warranted response.

“I believe you.”

 

San calling Yunho and Jongho calling Mingi, their respective lines rang simultaneously. Jongho was quick to make his point, the best thing to do when on the phone with Mingi, really.

“Mingi. Jongho here. Are you clear to talk now? San's decided his next move and he needs a detailed layout of Wooyoung’s main base. Think you can divvy that up? We’d also need your guidance when we execute this plan as well. We can talk details later, can you be back in a couple hours or so? Okay. Goodbye.” Jongho hung up the phone and turned to see a visibly annoyed San.

“I swear to God, is it that hard to answer the phone?” San had sat through the dial tone three times already. He then left his first voicemail.

“Yunho, oh my GOD seriously, this is the most important phone call you’ll probably ever receive from me so if you could PICK UP THE GODDAMNED PHONE I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IT, THANK YOU, GOODBYE.” San groaned and threw his phone on the desk with a thud before picking it right back up again to now text Yunho.

Around thirteen minutes passed before San’s phone vibrated.

“It’s about fucking time? You’re never there when I need you, Yunho!”

“Oh, well now you know that’s just not true. I was taking a nap. Can I help you?”

“Goddamnit. Okay well, I have a plan. It’s a good plan, I think it’s a good plan. The plan is to set Wooyoung’s base on fire and watch his entire world burn bit by bit. I just need all of your flamethrowers and lighter fluid.” San sounded a little too cheery.

“Jeez… not sure how I feel about you and an open flame but, I suppose I’ve got enough lighter fluid… however my flamethrowers are a little bit… worse for the wear. Do you really need to have actual flamethrowers? I dunno, how about like a uh, hmm, a _match_ maybe?” 

“Now that’s just not as fun. Don’t be a party pooper, Yunho.”

Yunho sighed and rubbed his temples. _Should have stayed asleep._

“Okay, well, I’m going to have to fix them up a bit before you can get them-”

“Great, okay so you’ll be here by six? That gives you like, at least 3 hours.”

_Yeah, really should have stayed asleep._

Much like Jongho, Yunho knew there was no arguing with San when he was on a roll.

“Sure. Fine. That’s… fine. I’ll see you then.”

“Great,” San replied, promptly hanging up.

“So I guess we’ll be having a little powwow here! Should… probably move these…” San gestured to the room still glittered with killing toys, he and Jongho proceeding to clear the room of weapons before the rest of the posse arrived.

 

Mingi arrived first. Punctual as usual and readily prepared. San explained his plan with vigor to an unmoving Mingi. Nothing could ever really surprise Mingi at this point with what all he’d seen in the past. 

When San finished, Mingi proceeded to lay out the floor plan that he constructed to the best of his ability using his spatial reasoning of the base. He was able to describe the interior, what to look out for, entrances and exits, and suggestions on the best routes to take for maximum efficiency.

As they continued brainstorming, San sitting behind his desk and Mingi speaking from across the table, a presence made himself known by clearing his throat to speak.

“Hey, I’ve got what you asked for in the back of the truck, would appreciate some help unloa-”

With his back to the doorway, Mingi slowly turned to see if the voice he was hearing matched the face that he had in his mind. As they locked eyes, Yunho’s expression changed to one of unbridled surprise. Mingi’s eyes smiled along with the small smile creeping on his lips.

“Oh, Mingi! It’s uh, it’s good to see you again,” Yunho said in his most platonic-business-relationship-I-respect-you-as-a-colleague voice. Mingi mirrored his fake tone.

“Ah, yes. Nice to see you, too.”

The room felt dumb. San jittery in his chair with adrenaline. Two boys trying so hard to hide their giddy joy at meeting again. Jongho being incredibly aware of the whole scene. The momentary strangeness was shaken by Yunho.

“So! Like I said, the stuff you requested is in the back of my truck to be unloaded.”

“I can help you out,” Mingi said, trying so hard to not sound too enthusiastic. 

San got up from his chair to join them when Yunho began to flail a little. 

“Oh no, it’s just a two-man job, it’s not that much, really. We should be fine.”

San lowered himself back down in the seat with a slightly confused expression.

“Oookay… just… feel free to set them right inside that entrance and my men can gather them later.”

“You got it!” Yunho said, as the two were already making their way down the hall together.

 

Making their way to the exit and outside, they walked in silence, the air between them practically buzzing. Once they got to the truck, which was pretty much just a U-Haul, Yunho opened the latch and slid the metal door upwards. He prepared to climb in the truck to begin unloading when a hand snaked around his waist from behind.

Mingi wrapped both of his arms around Yunho’s waist, pulling him up against himself and murmuring in Yunho’s ear.

“You just can’t stay away from me, can you?” Mingi taunted in a sultry tone.

Yunho leaned back into Mingi’s neck and closed his eyes before responding.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you can’t stay away from _me?_ You did visit me first, you know.”

“Yes, and our time was cut much too short,” Mingi said quickly, abruptly turning Yunho around in his arms.

Yunho slowly shifted his gaze up to Mingi’s face, who was looking back at him with impassioned eyes. Their lips had already nearly brushed by accident, and they weren’t far from it happening on purpose. Yunho ran both his hands through Mingi’s hair before stopping them at the back of his neck and pushing him forward into a kiss. 

It was a confident kiss, premeditated by both parties, but still soft and shy, not wanting to do too much too quickly. Mingi’s hands couldn’t help but find the small of Yunho’s back where his spine curved and it felt so right and so _good_ to have his hands there. Yunho took it upon himself to do his own exploring and moved his hands from Mingi’s neck down to his chest, feeling Mingi’s body heat radiating on his fingertips. His build was lean and firm, and Yunho wondered what it would feel like to be skin-to-skin with all of it.

They took their time feeling the sweet sensation of one another’s lips moving in small, intimate touches before the kiss began to climb in intensity. Mingi went for tongue first, Yunho immediately pleased and inviting all of it into his mouth. They slowly felt each other’s tongues with their own, bathing in the eroticism of the sensation. And then it sped up, faster and faster, their breaths getting quicker and louder and they became needier and needier until Mingi couldn’t take it anymore and firmly grabbed as much of Yunho’s ass that could fit in both of his hands, letting out an incredibly impatient groan into Yunho’s mouth. Mingi broke the kiss to speak with ferocity.

“Get in the truck.”

Yunho turned to climb in the truck and Mingi seized the open opportunity to grab his ass again, getting a small yelp from Yunho that echoed inside the truck’s interior. Right on his heels, Mingi made his way into the truck as well. There was a large empty space front and center, the cases and boxes pushed to the far back.

Yunho was sitting with his legs in front of him as Mingi crawled inside, sending himself his own invitation to climb up Yunho until their faces met again. Mingi lowered himself just enough for Yunho to feel how hard he was and vice versa. Mingi shuddered and Yunho took in an overwhelmed breath before he just had to ask.

“Are we going to fuck in a U-Haul?”

Mingi full-on smiled before laughing and collapsing on top of Yunho, who let out a grunt as some air was knocked from him. 

“What? I’m serious!” Yunho said between his own laughter. Mingi controlled his snickering just enough to respond.

“Would you… like to fuck in a U-Haul?”

“I would fuck you anywhere.”

“... Shit.”

Mingi only raised himself up enough to latch himself onto Yunho’s neck who gasped at the sudden sensation, the feeling of warmth and slight tickling setting off all kinds of alarms within his brain. 

In between surprised gasps and moans, Yunho did his best to speak.

“Sh-shouldn’t we, ah! Shouldn’t we close the door a bit?” 

Mingi continued running the tip of his tongue on Yunho’s skin between his words.

“It might… get hot in here… and it would be a little… dark…”

“It’s better than the back of the, mmph- the back of the truck wide open,” Yunho replied. 

Mingi got up, slightly panting for air. He straddled Yunho, able to feel the size of him between his legs. He looked down at Yunho, pleasantly surprised.

“You’ve got all that, huh?” Mingi said, gyrating his hips over Yunho’s lower body. Yunho groaned from the back of his throat, reflexively pushing up against Mingi’s crotch, his body slightly shaking from the pleasure. Yunho could feel Mingi’s admirable size, reaching down between them to really feel him.

“You’re one to talk…” 

Mingi chuckled quietly, his head falling back as Yunho took his time palming every inch of Mingi’s bulge. Yunho used the tips of his fingers to feel up each side of Mingi’s cock. Mingi’s head came forward again to look Yunho in the face.

“God, you’re so bad for me…” Mingi said, his tone exasperated but elated. Yunho smiled and moved from underneath Mingi to stand, walking to the truck door to pull it down. He left it open about a foot, letting in a little light and air before returning to a waiting Mingi. Yunho got on all fours, crawling onto Mingi this time, who looked up at Yunho with an excited smirk and fiery eyes. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah… I can be real bad for you…” Yunho said before forcefully grabbing Mingi’s crotch and sucking on his neck. Mingi let out a throaty groan then chuckled. To retaliate, he swiftly smacked Yunho’s ass and then roughly grabbed it with both hands. Yunho let out a pleased “mmm!”

“Can I get you out of those pants, beautiful?” Mingi said, his hand on the back of Yunho’s neck as he was still kissing Mingi’s. Yunho pushed himself up to look down at Mingi, who was anxiously awaiting an answer. Yunho responded by gently pressing his lips to Mingi’s, a delicate gesture before he replied with a quiet “yes.”

Yunho pushed himself back up and Mingi sat up as well, the both of them sitting across from one another. In silence, they both untied their shoes and removed their socks, proceeding to toss them haphazardly toward the truck door. 

They both reached for one another, unable to withstand a moment without physical contact. This kiss was messy, desperate, a mutual message sent by their lips that said _now now now now take me now please._ Having sat up on their knees, their hands explored the entirety of the other, traveling around their torso to their ass and then back to their sides, a fast and needy dance.

Mingi placed a hand on Yunho’s back before beginning to pull his shirt up. Yunho broke from the kiss to allow Mingi to pull it over his head before they locked lips again. Yunho mimicked Mingi’s move, pulling his shirt over his head. Skin touched skin, the exchange of body heat making them even needier for the other to strip entirely. 

They both pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air. They were finished with all the foreplay.

Removing their own clothes as quickly as possible, their desperate pace was put on pause as they were now fully revealed to one another. Yunho was slightly slimmer than Mingi who was a little more defined.

“Fuck, you gorgeous thing. Let me taste you,” Mingi said, not sure where to even place his eyes. Everything about Yunho was so perfect, so smooth, so bare, it all just begged Mingi to make it his.

“Mingi. God- when you talk like that, I think about doing things to you that I’ve never thought about doing with anyone else.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what? Lie down,” Mingi asked then demanded, beginning to trail his tongue down Yunho’s body. Yunho’s abdomen tensed at the sensation.

“I’ll show you some day. One thing at a time,” Yunho said, interlacing his fingers in Mingi’s hair as he crawled between his legs.

“Some day? Already planning ahead, hm?” Mingi didn’t give Yunho time before he began licking the tip of Yunho’s cock. A shudder visibly made its way through Yunho’s body, making Mingi that much more eager to make him cum. Slowly wrapping his lips around him, he allowed Yunho deeper into his mouth until he gagged. Yunho softened his grip in Mingi’s hair, slightly worried. Mingi looked up at Yunho and winked. 

Yunho hadn’t seen anything more filthy and beautiful in his life than Mingi working his cock in and out of his mouth, his soft, fluffy hair occasionally tickling him. Yunho combed Mingi’s hair back to keep it from falling on his face, his grip on it tightening again as he felt himself close to hitting his high. Mingi hummed lowly in the back of his throat, sending vibrations through Yunho while he worked him. Yunho’s breath hitching turned into whines that turned into moans. Mingi continued his pace until Yunho was crying out, reaching his high. As he came, Mingi replaced his mouth with his hand, Yunho’s cum landing in and around his mouth and on his chest. 

Yunho watched in aroused awe, breathless from coming and breathless at the sight of Mingi being so shameless. Mingi dragged his finger through the stream of cum on his chest, staring at Yunho as he cleaned it off with his tongue. Yunho was still trying to catch his breath.

“Give me… a second. You’ll get yours, sweetheart.” Yunho said, not yet moving from the floor of the truck.

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Mingi said with a smile.

Some stamina restored, Yunho sat up, ran a hand through his sweaty hair and moved close to Mingi.

“Lie down,” he said gently. Mingi watched Yunho’s face intently and obliged to his request. Yunho took a moment looking up and down Mingi’s body, taking all of him in while Mingi looked up at him curiously.

“What is it?” Mingi asked, a feather of concern in his voice.

“You’re just… wow…” Yunho said, his hand hovering over Mingi’s abdomen. Mingi gently took his wrist to lower it onto his body.

“It’s all yours,” Mingi said quietly. Yunho smiled and huffed a small laugh. He delicately ran his hand upwards until he reached Mingi’s face, cupping his cheek in his hand. Yunho changed his position to put his legs on either side of Mingi and his hands on either side of his head. Leaning down, he slowly kissed Mingi’s lips and then proceeded to move one hand down to Mingi’s cock, the other hand still remaining next to his head. 

This way, Yunho could watch Mingi’s face as he pleasured him. He wrapped his hand around Mingi, slowly stroking, Mingi’s expression turning to one of vulnerable pleasure. As Yunho sped up his pace, Mingi’s mouth opened a little wider, his moans becoming a little louder. Yunho was captivated.

Yunho could feel Mingi getting close, his breath becoming frantic, his eyes shutting. Yunho sped up ever so slightly and gripped Mingi’s cock a little tighter until Yunho’s chest and hand was now covered in cum, Mingi letting out a loud groan as he orgasmed. 

Yunho released his hold on Mingi, sitting back to run his hand across his chest to stick the ends of his fingers in his mouth. 

“That’s hot,” Mingi remarked breathlessly. Yunho laughed.

Mingi rode out the aftershocks of pleasure and finally moved to sit back up with an exasperated groan. Now facing one another again, they were both a spent, sweaty mess. Mingi leaned forward for one last kiss. This kiss was special. It asked, _now we’ve been so close, can we ever turn back?_ Only to reply to itself, _I don’t want to turn back._

The kiss bitter sweetly broken, Yunho said what they both knew was inevitable.

“We still have to move this stuff inside. And San’s probably wondering what’s taking so damn long,” he chuckled. 

They both got dressed as best they could in the dim light, their clothes sticking to them a little unpleasantly- a sacrifice they were more than willing to make. They took turns straightening the other’s hair out and making sure they were at least halfway presentable.

Mingi stooped down to pull the truck door open when Yunho stopped him.

“Wait.” 

Mingi stood to look at Yunho, a little perplexed.

Yunho kissed Mingi one more time. Just one more. And one more. And… one more.

Mingi couldn’t help but begin to smile in the middle of the shower of kisses.

“What? What is it??” Mingi asked, giggling.

“I don’t know when I’ll get to kiss you again.”

Mingi was slightly surprised but he didn’t show it. Yunho really did want to see him again. Mingi’s heart felt like it was going to overflow with anticipation and excitement. 

“It won’t be too long. I have a feeling we’ll cross paths again,” Mingi said, running the back of his hand on Yunho’s cheek. 

Pulling the truck door open, they were both blinded by the sunlight.

“Holy fucking- aah!!” Mingi shielded his eyes. Yunho snorted.

“Something funny?!” Mingi yelled toward Yunho, his eyes closed.

“No!! Just you!!” Yunho yelled back, grinning.

Once their eyes adjusted, they began to carry everything in, leaving it at the entrance as San suggested. With the last load, Yunho pulled the truck door closed. Mingi sighed, looking at Yunho’s sweet face before gesturing for them to head inside.

They silently walked back down the hall to San’s office, both amused at the little secret they now shared. Mingi walked into the room first.

“Jesus, I thought you guys died. The hell took so long, I thought it wasn’t a lot?” San asked, very much plagued by impatience. 

“It wasn’t. A couple of the boxes had tipped over so we had to do a little clean-up,” Mingi replied confidently. San’s agitated expression shifted to one of indifference.

“Oh. Well, sit down already. It’s time for us to talk business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. my own dialogue had me fucked up. JSKDKSKCKS also welcome to the longest chapter yet! thanks for reading! you’re beautiful!


	7. Sweating Bullets

Running his hand through his hair once more and sitting down with a sigh, Yunho couldn’t tell if he was impressed or startled by how smoothly Mingi could lie. And he just had sex with him… _What if he faked-_

“So. Here’s what I need. I need a meeting of the minds. We need to collaborate on a plan to easily get in, flame the place, and get the hell out. Yunho, whaddaya got?” San interrupted his thoughts, which may have been a good thing. 

Yunho looked up to see San expectantly awaiting his outflow of information and Mingi staring at him curiously. Yunho cleared his throat.

“Well, you’re looking to cause a… substantially large fire, so I brought the larger tank flamethrowers. They’re liquid-operated instead of propane. They’ll last longer and shoot further.”

Mingi snorted. Yunho shot him a pointed look. Mingi pursed his lips and looked away. 

“And, um… I did some research. Thought it might be helpful.” 

Yunho pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket.

“So, if you’re looking to supplement the fire, you’d want to aim for the most flammable things in the warehouse, yeah? Well… wherever they make the cocaine, you can go there. The-” 

Yunho brought the piece of paper closer to his eyeballs, squinting and struggling to read what he wrote down.

“The diet, no- dithel… DIETHYL, sorry- ether used to process freebase cocaine is flammable. Also solvents? They use it to make drugs and also like aerosols, the stuff you spray-”

“Thank you, Yunho. I think there’s something you should know. I happen to mass produce drugs. I know what aerosols are. I appreciate the enthusiasm, though.” San interrupted a very focused Yunho who probably needed glasses. And a nap.

Yunho was a little embarrassed realizing he talked a bit too much about drugs in front of Mr. Drug himself. He sat awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

Mingi cut the silence.

“Well, I didn’t know that thing about the diet ethyl cocaine thing.”

San looked at Mingi, eyebrows furrowed.

“Moving on… Mingi. Now that Yunho has told us to set things that catch fire… on fire… you tell us where those things are.”

Mingi had already laid out his sketch of the warehouse, a much more precise artifact than Yunho’s crinkled paper and chicken scratch.

“That- that’s really good, Mingi. Did you draw that out?” Yunho asked, his eyes scanning the large piece of paper laid across San’s desk.

“Yeah, I did. I took a couple architecture classes a few years ago. I guess it comes in handy sometimes.”

“Really?? I wouldn’t have thought that about you. Did you take any other classes?”

“Okay, literally one of you is about to go fucking sit in time out. Can we focus?” San’s patience was already wearing thin. Jongho snickered in the corner.

Mingi cleared his throat and continued.

“I think your best bet is to start at this back entrance here and work your way to the front. You’ll go through the shipment garage into the central part of the building. It _is_ a really large warehouse, so spread out and be quick. It’s basically this large main room here with four attached wings. Over in the western part of the building are the labs including the cocaine lab, the eastern part would be depressants, southern part stimulants and northern part any other eccentricities like opioids, laced drugs, and experimental drugs. You’ll find solvents in multiple places, but mainly the labs. Combustible inhalants are mostly concentrated in the southeast corner of the warehouse. Oh, and there are technically two floors in the main room. It’s a metal balcony that wraps around the entirety of the room and holds a few more random supplies. I’d avoid it unless you want the roof caving in on you before you’re out.” Mingi finished speaking and the room remained quiet while San processed his thoughts.

“I think I’ve got what I need. Thank you as always, Mingi,” San finally said, a bit more level-headed now that he had been fed his wanted influx of information.

“Oh, I also wanted to tack on- you have a good window of time from around 3 P.M. to 6 P.M. this upcoming Tuesday where Wooyoung won’t be there to intervene. He’s supposed to be traveling to meet with a client,” Mingi added, beginning to fold up his blueprints.

“Perfect. He’ll come back home to a sad little pile of ashes and bones. And as you should expect, I will largely repay you for your time and insight.”

San stood up, reflexively buttoning his blazer and heading for the door. Jongho followed. 

Yunho spoke before San crossed the threshold.

“So… what do you want us to do now?”

San turned around, his expression unmoved by Yunho’s silly question.

“Well, _you_ should go back home. Not like I’d expect you to come along, especially with your killing track record. Which is none. Matter of fact, neither of you should think of tagging along, especially you Mingi. You’re an integral part of this operation, start to finish. And I plan to finish it.”

 

San gathered a large group of his men to take down the warehouse. He loudly presented the game plan to over seventy men, regurgitating all of the info he’d received. 

Flamethrowers were handed out along with cans of lighter fluid, blowtorches, and even pocket lighters. San wanted his men to be as prepared as possible, with Jongho helping run a crash course on proper flamethrower operation. 

Flame resistant clothing and respirators were distributed. Men were divided into groups and assigned certain sectors of the warehouse, along with a group of men assigned to shoot and kill anyone that dared to get in their way. Every measure was taken to ensure efficient execution of the plan that San hoped would send a clear measure to that bastard Wooyoung. And San being San, he wanted to be there too. And Jongho being Jongho, he was not in favor of this idea but he knew his disagreement was futile.

D-day came and everyone loaded themselves and their weapons into various vehicles, departing toward their destination lying less than an hour away. San’s car at the head of the convoy, Jongho drove the two of them in silence. San stared out the window, he leg jiggling in anticipation for their flaming arrival. This was perhaps the biggest stunt that San would ever pull- the most showboating, over-the-top, glamorous display of the hatred he held for one man.

Jongho would have been fine with their journey continuing in silence, but San’s leg jiggling was triggering one of the few pet peeves that Jongho had.

“Sir, have you considered taking a Xanax before we arrive?” Jongho said, half joking, half completely serious like _ohmygod please stop fidgeting_ serious.

“Very funny. No, I plan on being one hundred percent alert while I watch Wooyoung’s world begin to burn.”

Jongho had heard one too many of San’s overly passionate spiels about Wooyoung so he decided to keep quiet for the rest of the trip.

 

Upon pulling up to the back of the warehouse, the first step in the plan was already in motion. Arrive unnoticed. Now to _enter_ unnoticed. San and his men had put to memory the path recommended to them by Mingi, making their way to the back entrance where it would be less likely for them to be confronted by anyone. They slid behind large shipment carriers and trucks as they moved through the shipment garage.

The first group of men went into the main floor first, guns at the ready. Shots could be heard from a distance as they took out anyone they could see. The second group went in, toting their tanks on their backs and their flamethrowers in their arms, speeding toward the west wing. The gunmen continued to actively play defense as the sound of flames began to fill the air. A few small explosions from pressurized cans could be heard as the third group filed in, running to the north wing. The fourth group headed to the east and the last group stayed behind until San was ready to enter, their sector being the one nearest to their current position. 

San happily listened to the sound of destruction for a few minutes before advancing. He motioned for his men to go on ahead of him before being the last one to emerge in the main room.

His men were making quick work of each wing, the flames making their way in closer and closer as they burned from the outside halls to the inside room. The ones unlucky enough to be in the main room were already good and dead, their bodies having been bleeding out for over ten minutes. The gunmen raced out past San, their job of clearing all the areas of the enemy completed. The western wing was finished soon after, the flames beginning to lick at the main room.

San watched, pleased at the sight of his plan going so well. He could hear the voices of his men from the north making their way across the warehouse as they completed their end of the building, rushing out before the flames got too close. San was waiting patiently for the last two groups to finish before being torn from his stupor. Neither San nor Jongho chose to wear a flame retardant helmet, so when a voice rang out in the main room their heads instantly shot up to look for the source.

Scanning around the room, they looked all across the floor and up at the balcony until Jongho tapped San’s arm. Jongho was turned in the opposite direction, looking upward at the part of the balcony that originally lay above and behind them. San turned around and they both took a few steps back so they could see the rest of what was attached to the pants and shoes they were seeing.

San didn’t feel threatened, no. He just kind of felt… nauseated. 

“You’re so HOT for me!!” Wooyoung yelled before letting out a high-pitched laugh. “God, I can’t believe it- an ambush, just for me. Mmm… oh! You brought your bodyguard, and I brought mine! Just like a double date. This one is mine, Kang Yeosang.” Wooyoung pointed at Jongho and leaned near Yeosang’s ear. “He’s the one I was telling you about.”

Jongho and San exchanged slightly concerned looks. This wasn’t in the plan. The plan was already successfully executed; there was no controlling the flames now. But this was also just… not in the plan. San and Jongho silently stood in place, the east wing group emerging but slowing down at the sight of Wooyoung. Wooyoung looked down at them unmoving, his face still flooded with smugness. 

San and Jongho yelled and gestured for them to keep moving before returning their attention to Wooyoung and Yeosang. The room was beginning to get even hotter, the sound of flames getting even louder. Wooyoung yelled over the flames.

“You know San… sometimes I feel like you make this much too easy for me…” Wooyoung spoke slowly as he pulled a silver pistol out from being tucked into the back of his pants. Yeosang glanced down at the pistol unaffectedly before returning his gaze to the two men below. 

Jongho immediately pulled out his glock, aimed and ready to fire in a matter of milliseconds. San’s head shot over to Jongho.

“Don’t kill him.”

Jongho glanced over at San with a confused and exasperated look. He shouldn’t have been surprised in all honesty. He knew San would want that honor, and getting in between San and what he wanted was a one-way ticket to the grave. Jongho heaved a sigh and nodded.

“Hey, you know what’d be fun? Since you and I are fighting, what if our two bodyguards fought too? Like to see who would survive! I know your man is all strength and shit, but Yeo over here is all agility. Wouldn’t that be so interesting to watch?” Wooyoung said, his arms dangling over the balcony railing, including the one holding his pistol. 

San attentively watched that hand. _Would he really kill me here? This isn’t the right time for me to kill him, nor for me to die. Shouldn’t he know that?_ San finally responded for the first time.

“It’d be much more interesting to watch your skin melt off of your body while this building burns around you.”

Wooyoung laughed, haphazardly waving his gun around. His laughter abruptly stopped as he aimed his gun right at San’s head.

“Funny. You’re funny. You know… I could end this all right now and your body would just be another nameless corpse amidst my men whom you treated so unkindly. Such a lackluster death. Would anyone even miss you?”

Jongho watched Wooyoung’s hand, every slight movement of his fingers, every shift in his grasp on the gun. Wooyoung lifted his thumb to cock his gun, his pointer finger twitching. 

A shot rang out followed by a scream of agony and anger.

Wooyoung’s gun fell from his hand, clattering loudly to the floor below him, mere meters from San and Jongho. He growled in pain, clutching his wrist. His fingers were now bloody and tattered with a hole raggedly ripped through his palm. Yeosang tried to steady Wooyoung who was already losing blood. Wooyoung shook Yeosang’s hand off of him before leaning into the railing to cry out to the two men below.

“You fucking prick…” Saliva dripped from Wooyoung’s lips as blood continued to pour out of him, coating the balcony railing, small drops making their way onto the warehouse floor. Jongho had long since lowered his gun, now coldly observing Wooyoung’s suffering. San watched alongside him, disgusted at Wooyoung’s weakness. He was prepared to continue berating Wooyoung until a large crash came from behind them.

“Sir, we need to move. Unless you wish to be crushed by the flaming ceiling,” Jongho said to San with fervor. San glanced up at Wooyoung and Yeosang. _God, what I’d give to watch him suffer like this just a bit longer._

Wooyoung was still wincing and cursing in pain, Yeosang doing the same as Jongho to get him the fuck out.

“Sir?” Jongho tore San out of his thoughts.

“Yes, yes let’s move.” He and Jongho quickly headed back the way they came, reuniting with the rest of the team. Everyone was accounted for. 

Hastily getting back in the car, San and Jongho led the convoy back to base. As they pulled onto the main road, San violently broke the silence.

“What the FUCK was that, Jongho?”

Jongho knew inside that this was coming. His blood instantly boiled. If there was one thing that Jongho hated, it was San writing him off as incompetent. He sharply replied, mirroring San’s harsh tone.

“What the fuck was WHAT?” Jongho yelled back.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t remember authorizing you to shoot him.”

Jongho scoffed. “Oh, what- now I need authorization to do my fucking job?”

“Yeah, well, what if you didn’t do what you had intended and accidentally-”

“For fuck’s sake, San! My job is to fucking protect you and it seems like every time I try to do that, you’re not happy about it! Would you _like_ to die? Is that it?”

“What the fuck are you on ab-”

“Let me tell you something, San. I think that Wooyoung is fully capable of killing you. I don’t know what it is, but you become careless facing him. It’s like you throw part of your sanity out the window and expect to be fine. But you’re not.”

Jongho tightly gripped the wheel with ferocity, flooded by both anger and an overwhelming desire to do his one job. San sat quietly for a minute or two before replying. 

“You really think he can kill me?” San’s voice had substantially lowered in volume accompanied by a slight twinge of worry that could’ve easily been missed. Jongho didn’t look at San, even when he could see his face in his peripherals, waiting for an honest answer. The quiet hum of the road filled the empty air before Jongho heaved a sigh and finally looked San in the eyes.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there! it's been so long and i apologize!! my life has been crazy crazy and i have much to write but i'm not giving up on this AU whatsoever!! the next chapter will be coming soon after this one because shit really hits the fan >:)) on another note, ATEEZ ROTY omg this comeback has me REELING !!!! so proud of our boys :') i hope you've all been well! <3
> 
> p.s. i'm jongho-biased and writing him being aggressive is just... so good...


	8. A Lengthy Author's Note

To make it short, I won't be continuing this work. I thank everyone who supported this story.

I've been going through what feels like one of the hardest times in my life. I've been plagued with guilt, depression, anxiety, homesickness (as I'm now living alone at university, away from my home) and even feeling suicidal. 

When I had a stan Twitter account, I lashed out and insulted someone- a complete stranger on the internet. I inadvertently disrespected them and their pronouns whilst in the middle of a petty argument. I was then berated in every way, despite apologizing for my foolish actions. I was insulted, brought down, and I wish I could turn back the clock to before I became thoughtless and did what I did.

I apologized to that person to no avail as I received no response. I apologized to the people I once thought to be my friends to no avail because people turned their backs on me.

Up until that point, I thought I was doing my best to be an accepting, loving person who just wanted to be a part of a community to have fun and celebrate a music genre. But I was "cancelled."

I have spent months alone with only my thoughts telling me what a terrible person I am. That I am undeserving of having any friends, that I should never be forgiven, and that I might as well just be dead. I've obviously learned a lesson, and my mistakes won't be repeated. Alongside learning the lesson however, I've now found myself in the worst mental state.

I am trying to recover from what happened and in the process I am unable to enjoy the world of K-pop anymore. I can't associate with it without feeling deep guilt and depression.

I don't feel like I can be forgiven nor can I forgive myself. 

And as I mentioned before, I'm also extremely homesick and sad because I miss my home whilst at school. I can hardly find any interest in anything.

This is probably me just screaming into a void. I feel guilty for even saying anything because I feel like I'm just complaining. I feel like I should just shut up and move on somehow but I can't. I miss the way things used to be and feeling like the online space I was in was a safe space. So this is my last venture into what I hope can still be a safe space.

If anyone has any advice or has been in a similar situation... I'd appreciate advice on how to move on. Otherwise, this is just my overly-detailed reason why I won't be continuing writing this fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you made it through to here, thank you.


End file.
